- Good morning, citizens of Magiterra! Today as well, corporations are raking in record-breaking profits, and citizens are clocking record-breaking overtime!
- Is it mana that drives the city? Or is it your souls?
- The answer is both! So don't be late for work, and don't forget to inspect your Magic Circuits! Just yesterday, twenty-three people were rushed to the hospital from circuit overloads!
- This has been Silas Volt, and Magiterra thanks you for your labor again today!
Pat.
Thud.
My wandering hand finally found the remote.
Beep.
Setting the alarm to the morning broadcast seemed to have been a mistake.
Good morning, my ass. Sunlight never even reaches the bottom level in the first place.
Room 1409, Basement 20th Floor, D-12 Block, 7th Industrial District, Magiterra Lower Sector. That was the address of the place I currently lived in.
Calling it a 'residence' was generous. The room was barely large enough for me to lie down, and the densely packed units were practically a chicken coop.
If there was any silver lining, it was that the room at least had a bathroom.
"Haaah...."
A sigh slipped out on its own.
At this wretched environment and absurd situation.
Though it felt embarrassing to say so myself, I had once been a fairly renowned Archmage.
A spacious room incomparable to this shabby hovel.
Lavish meals served every day.
And above all, the ideal environment for researching magic.
I had planned to spend the rest of my years in the Magic Tower.
"...."
Wondering if this was still a dream, I pinched my cheek.
Having done it for a year, it had become an ingrained habit.
Adjusting to this place where I currently live, Magiterra, had taken a great deal of effort.
..
..
The place I first translocated to was the 1st floor of Magiterra.
The sunlit Surface Level.
And the lowest level among the areas where Magiterra's 'citizens' lived.
Thinking back on it now, I was actually quite lucky.
If I had dropped into the underground disposal zone or the outer radiation ruins right from the start, I would have died before even learning the city's name.
Of course, there was no way I could have known that back then.
Everything before my eyes was completely alien.
Flying vehicles cleaving through the sky and corporate logos hovering in midair.
Surveillance drones patrolling every corner of the streets.
Now, I know what those things are.
In particular, the security surveillance drones equipped with mana lenses and miniature levitation circuits were astonishing.
Though they were precision machines capable of patrolling all across Magiterra to verify citizenship, residency rights, tax records, and circuit registration data.
To my eyes back then, they simply looked like small familiars crafted from metal.
I did my best to conceal myself and gather information.
Because I judged that I shouldn't make any reckless moves until I grasped how this place operated.
Of course, that judgment itself wasn't wrong.
The problem was that this city had far more eyes than I had anticipated.
Not long after I slipped out of the alley and blended into the main street, a small drone descended over my head.
It was a sphere clad in a silvery metallic sheen.
A blue crystal lens was embedded in its center, with thin levitation wings spread out on both sides.
That lens turned toward me.
Beep.
A blue light swept over me from head to toe.
[Scanning.]
Soon, red letters materialized in midair.
[Verifying identity.]
[No registered citizen data.]
[No residency authorization.]
[No tax record.]
[No employment registration.]
[Magic Circuit registration data mismatch.]
As the lines appeared one after another.
The final line flashed in crimson.
[Illegal resident confirmed.]
I quietly stepped back.
I intended to run.
At the very least, I had to get away from the crowded street.
But it was too late.
Burly men appeared from both sides of the alley.
As I learned later, they were employees of a private security contractor commissioned by the Public Security Bureau.
One of them had an entire arm replaced with a black metallic prosthetic arm, while another had a thick mana tube plugged into the back of his neck. The last man had a red lens embedded in place of an eye.
The same emblem was engraved on their chests.
A winged shield and a gear.
Back then, I mistook that crest for a noble family's coat of arms.
Now, I know.
It was the security company's logo.
"One illegal confirmed."
The man with the red lens said.
"Age?"
"Scan shows around sixteen. Low circuit output. No combat aptitude."
I chuckled inwardly.
No combat aptitude, huh?
To say such a thing to the Archmage who slew the Demon King.
Of course, back then, I couldn't refute it.
But one didn't earn the title of Archmage for nothing.
Because it wasn't as if I had no way to deal with the three men in front of me.
A black metallic prosthetic arm, a mana tube behind the neck, and a red lens in the eye.
All three had openings.
The joint of the prosthetic arm was excessively exposed, and the mana tube lay completely bare on the nape of the neck. Perhaps because he relied on a visual corrector, the man with the red lens was slow to react to his left blind spot.
Snapping the joint of one in an instant, ripping out another's mana tube, and shattering the last one's lens.
It was not impossible.
But that was all.
Even if I took them down, the surveillance drone had already scanned me. The identity query results had surely been transmitted somewhere. If this entire street was the enemy's eyes and ears, causing a scene on the spot was close to suicide.
Above all else, my mana was completely depleted at the time.
I could make one move.
But I couldn't guarantee a second.
Ignorant of this world's weapons and suppression methods, betting everything solely on close combat carried far too much risk.
I slowly exhaled.
'Not right now.'
A Magician must distinguish between battles they can win and battles they must avoid.
"I think there's a misunderstanding."
I spoke as calmly as possible.
The man with the black metallic prosthetic arm grabbed my shoulder.
"Misunderstandings are handled upstairs."
"Upstairs?"
"No."
The man chuckled.
"Down below."
At those words, I did not resist.
Pretending to cooperate while gathering information.
That was the best I could do at the time.
Soon, a sharp prick of pain registered behind my neck.
An injection.
A mana suppressor.
To be precise, a low-grade neural suppressant injection used to subdue illegal residents of the Underground Level.
The effect was crude, but it was enough.
Instead of biting my tongue to endure it, I deliberately relaxed my body.
My vision tilted.
The illusory holographic signs of the street stretched long and blurred into one another.
..
..
The place where I opened my eyes was an unfamiliar room.
There were no iron bars.
Instead, a courteous notice was posted on the wall.
[Welcome to Magiterra.]
[Residents without citizenship may acquire legal residency status through a temporary labor contract.]
[Upon contract refusal, deportation procedures to the outskirts will proceed.]
Deportation to the outskirts.
Did that mean casting me out of the city?
If so, that might not be a bad thing. If this city was not the world I once knew, it was equally unfamiliar whether I was inside or outside. If I broke free from this colossal prison, it might actually be easier to find clues for dimensional translocation.
But I withheld judgment.
I slowly surveyed the room.
One door.
One window.
One middle-aged man seated at the desk opposite me.
Embedded in the corner of the ceiling was something resembling a small crystal eye. Radiating a faint blue glow, it blinked at regular intervals as it illuminated the room.
A surveillance magic tool?
That was my assumption.
A thin blue line also ran across the door. A locking mechanism, presumably. Though the shape of the pattern differed from the sealing formulas I knew, its function appeared similar.
The man, who had been studying my face closely, rose from his seat.
Then he walked toward one wall and grabbed the cord of the black blinds covering the window.
"Look."
Rattle.
The blinds rose.
I absentmindedly glanced out the window.
Beyond the glass, before the sky even came into view, a colossal barrier wall dominated the sight.
The perimeter wall encircling Magiterra.
Tangled with blue Magic Circuits, the gigantic wall stretched all the way to the horizon.
But the real issue was not the barrier wall itself.
It was what lay beyond.
The earth was rotted black.
A tainted land.
The words surfaced in my mind, overlapping immediately with memories of the Demon Continent.
"...?"
Suddenly, something shifted in the far distance.
I initially mistook it for a boulder, but it raised its head.
The creature was a magical beast the size of a bison.
Lowering its snout, the beast licked the soil.
The earth touched by its tongue bubbled and boiled furiously.
I furrowed my brow.
"It isn't foraging for food."
The man looked at me.
"What?"
"It's licking mana. Forcing itself to consume the waste mana clinging to the tainted soil, even though its body can't withstand it."
At that very moment, another magical beast charged toward the barrier wall.
Shaped somewhere between a dog and a wolf, it leaped at the base of the wall and immediately began clawing at the metal surface.
Skrrreeech.
The chilling, grating noise penetrated straight through the windowpane.
Soon, a metallic apparatus atop the wall pivoted smoothly.
As if an eyeball were swiveling toward its prey.
Blue light concentrated at its muzzle.
I could not identify what weapon it was.
But my instincts screamed.
Dangerous.
The next instant, light flashed in a brief pulse.
Not a single sound followed.
Yet in the span of a heartbeat, the beast at the foot of the wall burst into pieces.
Chunks of flesh and black blood splattered against the barrier.
I narrowed my eyes.
'A beam-type magitech armament?'
Its firepower was immense.
The firing speed was rapid as well.
No incantation.
No sign of a caster anywhere.
In short, an automated defense installation.
I could deduce that much.
Even so, the other beasts did not retreat.
Instead, they swarmed toward the fresh carcass, tearing, shoving, and trampling one another. Several of them swallowed chunks of the dead beast's flesh, shuddered violently, and sprouted jagged spines along their backs.
It was an absolute demonic realm.
The man gestured with his chin toward the view outside.
"That out there is the outskirts."
"A waste mana contamination zone."
I spoke before he could continue.
The man choked on his words for a second.
I kept my gaze fixed on the outside.
"Step outside the wall, and your circuits burn out first. Then your skin. Then your nervous system. If you're lucky, a magical beast eats you before that."
The man eyed me with a peculiar look.
"And if you're unlucky?"
I peered beyond the purple haze.
Atop a broken ridge, something stood upright like a human.
It balanced on two legs, draped in what looked like shredded clothing. Yet its arms hung down past its knees, and pitch-black horns sprouted from the back of its skull.
"You survive."
I added calmly.
"In a shape that is no longer human."
The man fell quiet for a moment, then stared at me with bafflement etched across his face.
"What the hell were you?"
"A Magician."
"A Magician?"
"Doesn't seem like one anymore, though."
Soon, the metal armament atop the wall flashed once more.
The humanoid figure vanished.
All that remained was a scorched black stain.
The man pulled the blinds back down.
Clatter.
The tainted wasteland and the silhouettes of the beasts were shut out from view.
Only the pale white glow of the notice remained in the room.
[Upon contract refusal, deportation procedures to the city outskirts will proceed.]
I rapidly calculated my options using every shred of information and deduction I possessed.
Then, I signed the contract.
Because I had always survived, no matter the odds.
That was who I was.
..
..
And so, cast down as an illegal resident, I arrived at the Underground Level.
Magiterra's Underground Level was a separate world nestled beneath the metropolis.
Let alone sunlight, there was no sky to speak of. Nothing met the eyes except sheer rock faces.
Instead, discarded remnants from above rained down periodically.
Refuse dumped by the upper tiers.
Broken magitech devices, crushed prosthetics, and drums of unidentifiable chemicals...
Occasionally, even human corpses.
Whenever the colossal conduits dumped their contents, trash cascaded like a roaring waterfall.
Rrrrrumble.
The moment that sound echoed, the underground dwellers looked up and bolted. The reason was simple: if you were too slow, you would be crushed to death by the falling debris.
I wandered that realm for several days.
I scoured the mountains of trash myself.
It would have been effortless had I been able to cast magic.
Unfurling even a single minor Search Spell would have made finding salvageable items simple.
But that was impossible. My circuits were still completely ruined.
Then, my toe struck something solid.
It was a magitech relic slightly larger than a palm.
A cracked crystal plate was set inside a black metal casing, with several severed circuit wires protruding from its flank.
At first, I assumed it was merely a broken trinket, but the moment I grasped it, I knew.
Mana remained inside.
Ever so faintly.
After scanning my surroundings, I slipped the device inside my coat.
That evening, I made my way to the scrap metal market on the 19th underground floor.
I set the device down in front of a street stall.
"How much?"
The stall keeper was an old man with a magnifying lens mounted over one eye. He glanced at my item and scoffed dismissively.
"Dead circuit. Won't even fetch the price of scrap metal."
"There's still mana left inside."
"What good is mana if it can't circulate?"
He tapped the casing with a blunt finger.
"Input port is fried, conversion circuit is snapped, and the crystal plate is cracked. This is beyond repair."
I looked down at the device.
Beyond repair, is it?
I inspected the circuitry once more.
It was a standard I had never seen before. The trace thickness, joint shapes, and methods for interrupting and joining mana flows all differed from the spell formations I knew.
Yet it was not entirely alien. In the end, all methods of manipulating mana inevitably converge.
Even with different languages, rivers still flow downhill just the same.
I pressed down on a severed circuit line with my fingertip.
"This isn't the problem."
"What?"
"The broken part isn't the conversion circuit. The flow is backfiring right here."
The old man scowled.
"What do you know?"
"Be quiet for a second."
I did not force mana inside.
I merely gave it a gentle nudge.
Zap.
Within the device, one of the broken circuits flickered with a faint light.
The old man's eyes went wide.
"What did you just do?"
"I found the blockage."
I picked up a thin metal scrap lying nearby.
Using its sharp edge, I scraped away the scorched residue from the circuit board, then delicately bridged the two severed points.
It was a crude improvisation, but it successfully restored the flow.
Hummm.
A blue luminescence sparked behind the cracked crystal plate.
Silence fell over the stall.
The stall keeper stared at the humming device, his jaw hanging open.
"Why the hell did that power on?"
"Because the circuit was never dead."
I set the device down firmly.
"How much?"